


Everything Was Blue

by 4376111



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen, freeform writing style, idk man, liberal use of parentheses, lots of family, personified, pretty much all the characters are only briefly mentioned, the sea, yes this is named after halsey lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 08:46:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8365861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4376111/pseuds/4376111
Summary: We're all children of the sea,(She gets bored sometimes too).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at the odd hours, so I apologize for any errors or confusing bits. Also, I have no idea what's going on with the formatting here. I dont own one piece, and Enjoy :)

* * *

 

She was beautiful and menacing in all of the extremes that they could never hope to be.

She was strong, incredibly so, and many cowered to her with hardly a second thought.

Her love, just as strong, spread indiscriminately and with every ounce of her being.

Whether they hated, cursed, or belittled her, it was all but a breeze against a storm.

She loved them, and nothing they could whisper in the dark alleys and darker pubs could change that.

* * *

 

_(Of course she could hear all those things that her children spoke)._

* * *

 

She was reassuring and gentle when she whispered stories to keen ears. 

They didn’t understand her though, choosing to speak in foreign tongues and ignore the sounds of the wind.

It was okay, she decided.

She loved them enough to shake her head sadly and let out a sigh when they spoiled their ears with gunpowder and screams.

* * *

 

_(They would come back home soon, she could tell them stories then)._

* * *

 

They celebrated the times when she was calm enough to shine in a way they claimed ‘just had to be impossible’. 

Then she would let out faint laughs, because of course it wasn’t impossible.

It existed as it was.

It existed as the possible.

They were young though, and didn’t know better than to cling to disbelief.

She loved that as well of course.

* * *

_(Sometimes she wanted to stop believing too)._

* * *

Nobody claimed she was kind.

The world wasn’t kind either and one needed to be steeled against its hardships.

Some nights, she had to drag them home like the troublemakers they occasionally were.

Her grip was steady on their reddening ears.

She’d scold them thoroughly before a ‘welcome home’ graced those very same ears.

Maybe, in her embrace, she was kind.

Just for a moment.

None the less, they’d scurry off to lap at their damaged pride.

She laughed about how she loved that too, though sometimes her laugh sounded sad.

* * *

_(Her children were nothing if not prideful, she knew)._

* * *

She could be dark and harsh sometimes, when the sky threatened her children with it’s false light and booming voice.

Trickery of that sort could leaves scars dancing along her children’s singed flesh.

Sometimes she’d have to call them home for curfew.

Some of them, quite a few, weren’t strong enough to be watched like that.

The sky was twisted, and they were her children, not his.

She’d protect them, she vowed.

She could love them even when there were waves rolling off of her in anger.

* * *

_(To her it wasn’t ‘anger in waves’)._

* * *

When they had stolen her children she had been furious.

Fruits were for nourishment, and they had been since the world had been simple.

Then they had used that nourishment to bottle her children up and claim they were just power.

Those people might have once been her children, but she dragged them down and showed no mercy.

Some had escaped her wrath, and that was her greatest regret.

She loved her children no matter what, but her home was a safe haven of rest, not to have it’s doors slammed on anyone.

* * *

_(It was too late though and others were still trapped on the surface in those menacing swirls)._

* * *

They didn’t know what those powers really did.

They claimed that they could conquer the world with them, and she wouldn’t of cared, but they locked her door, and didn’t let her children home.

It didn’t even matter that they claimed she hated them, she just wanted them to be safe.

* * *

_(It still hurt when they believed it, unlike so many other things)._

* * *

When they stopped the kidnappings, she calmed her waves.

Her heart still felt brittle where she reached for the shore.

Slowly, one, by none, by one, she brought them home.

Sometimes they returned on their own, the wielder, (a sickening word), making a mistake and taking their place.

Sometimes they fell towards her open arms.

She was waiting for them there, always ready to bring them home.

She loved them after all.

* * *

_(Even when they started steering clear)._

* * *

She hated hurting her children.

Accidents happen accidentally, and nobody can change the past, but regret washes in with the tide.

One of her sons with sunlight hair told her that they hadn’t hurt on their way home.

It was only the ones who got lost along the way and ended up spitting her salty tears onto the land.

They were the only ones who hurt.

Drowning’s only painful in stories, and those’er told by the ones who thought they survived.

It was okay then, she told him, because she loved them.

The hurt ones just had a later bedtime than curfew.

* * *

_(She didn’t tell him that she thought that, maybe she was the drowning one)._

* * *

There had been a boy in a hat who could hear her.

She had smiled then, because even for her, it had been a very long time since anyone on the surface heard her voice.

He smiled and told her that he’d set sail sometime, that he’d be the greatest son of hers to ever grace the surface.

She’d laughed and said that she’d loved them all the same.

* * *

_(But maybe she loved him a little more when she laughed that way for the first time in ages)._

* * *

There was another boy that followed suite, and he hadn’t truly heard her words.

It didn’t matter though, because he understood and she’d spent nights talking to him.

Sometimes he’d talk back, and even though she knew he hadn’t been listening to her stories, he knew that she was speaking.

He wanted a family, he said.

She smiled at that.

When he ate his sibling’s fruit she had cried and promised to bring them both home someday.

After his adventures, of course.

She loved them, his family, and they were her family too.

* * *

_(And it was funny when her children started to call themselves his children too, but all her children had parents once).  
_

* * *

When the apprentice ate the fruit, he had been given orders that would stick till the end of time.

If he was to die out from the surface, he was to ignore what the world had told him and return to the sea.

He trusted his captain though, and his captain trusted the sea.

Silvers had whispered once that their captain could understand, though nobody was sure if he was serious due to the involved alcohol.

It was three weeks after Buggy was washed overboard and had not sunk long enough to be saved, that a tradition arose on the Oro Jackson.

The enemy fruit eaters were the first known occurrence of ‘walking the plank’.

It was a morbid way of homecoming but their mother thanked the ship with smooth sailing for a week after each and her love.

* * *

_(Though they always had that anyways)._

* * *

There was another mother, with a family almost as big as that of the second boy.

The girl was troubled and the sea was troubled, but the waves still lapped at the sweetness of the singing ship. 

Maybe, someday, the girl would find a way for her dreams.

* * *

~~~~_(They were all equal under the sea anyway)._

* * *

~~~~The other apprentice got the first boy’s hat, even though he couldn’t understand the same.

He could hear her breathy sighs and falling tears, but her language was foreign against his ears.

He lost his arm and his hat, but she only welcomed the limb into her watery depths.

* * *

_(The hat still had a long ways to go before reaching her doorstep)._

* * *

There were brothers, 3 of them, a vow, and too many fights to count.

She gently carried the blue boy to the arms of that man.

There was another vow, and she was less gentle with the red boy’s boat when she carried him to his family.

He was her son first and foremost, and his father had been too.

* * *

_(She cried when the blue and the red became purple fire, but she would wait to beckon them home)._

* * *

The third brother had thrown himself into a barrel and submitted to her whims.

He trusted her, he had said to the wind.

She had scolded him for the dangerous act and the responding _shishishi_ soon after became one of her favorite sounds.

* * *

_(It was that of his crew as well)._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :)  
> Comments of any sort are absolutely welcome!


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